


You Make Me Feel So Good You

by StrabalionAlbrecht



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate universe - no infection, Drinking, F/M, Friendship/Love, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 03:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrabalionAlbrecht/pseuds/StrabalionAlbrecht
Summary: Long days and longer nights above the city overlooking the ever-pouring capital erupting with Hallownest's bugs.Quirrel takes an adjustment to a visit that leads to a night that will be remembered no matter the number of drinks or laughs spent.The addictive demand growing everytime she has his attention, something Hornet doesn't think she will ever quite understand, yet her desire for him leaves her with words that she could never take back.Short and fluffy Hollow Knight Fiction where the plague never takes place.





	You Make Me Feel So Good You

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: IF YOU HAVE READ THIS BEFORE- I ended up editing this A LOT, this is a learning experience and I kept revising after I posted it so my apologies. 10/6/2019  
Any criticism or writing errors I would very much appreciate since this is my first time gambling with writing fiction.  
Love or hate the work I think we can all agree Hollow Knight has some amazing lore in the gameplay. Don't let this take away from what you see in it if you have a different perspective, Thanks for reading!

Footsteps split the passage's silence, his hums ringing throughout the enclosed overpass. It had a soft chorus of heavy patter, both echoing beyond the marble columns, encompassing its passersby from the relentless rain pouring from fissures above.

From the chain lift, he walked through various entry guardians, converging into a subsidiary dwelling. Another magnificent manor, standing extravagantly high beside the residencies of the cavern's capital, just nearby the colossal central palace. 

He held himself with purpose throughout these numerous halls, displaying his seal proudly to an audience of passerby's. The attendants not regarding the foreigner in the slightest. Being the Archives consultant, a well-recognized primacy of even commoners about the city, why would they?

The bug was on an occasional commuting trip, an excursion that lasted beyond several days. These told meetings, known to have been held in the most preposterous of times - persisting over many hours long, left any novice attending overcome by fatigue and boredom, even ingrained some new recognizable faces into his mind. Yet every day, this particular student always returned. And during his stay, likely would be found seated on the institution's bench. Facing the window, watching as hundreds of bugs throughout the day were layered with rain droplets, all minding their business to the city.

Two pieces of information were all they left Quirrel with for his visit, being, the 'desire of his presence was needed,' so you know, increasing the duration of his stay. But upon arriving, he discovered that the assignation was for architectural machination; thus, it was bound to be a slow week for not only himself, - but also would keep the majesty's hands tied with congregations for up-coming arrangements.

And, as a great mind would do, he took full advantage of this particular situation for his own aspiration. It wasn't nefarious, no, and nor did he quite think it mattered whatsoever; it was only for today, only affecting himself. So, with no intention to disruption anyone or thing, he'd go through with it. 

Because of this disposition, he'd see a view. Not a specific niche, but a room's outlook. Towering above where the dedicatory square was established, its room's viewpoint had been told to be better than even the Watcher's Spire. So to have changed from his repetitious routine- to only explore one sector of this enormous palace, he'd stolen a divine screw in his lust for this rare occasion. 

Following along the maze of passages, he'd stop for occasional direction, walking through many empty halls and hundreds of staircases before he came to his destination. Digging his hands through both pockets for the key of sorts, he unlocked the target's double doors. Troublesome anticipation weighing about him as the squeaky hinges unlocked, spreading to reveal another short corridor.

Quirrel huffed out the breath he'd been holding. Silently, shutting the doors behind him, nervous excitement thumped in his chest as he opened the supposed final entrance.

Inhaling a deep breath of the room's stale air seemed to put his mind at ease. The place was a tenant cabin though it was rather large. With a broad span of curtains concealing the windows at the moment, the room's illumination came from two separate lamps on the sizable nightstands beside the bed and small modest-looking lumafly capsules that lined symmetrically along the walls. Glazing their faint light over the different sized desks and bookshelves, and gleaming on the floor's pure white tile. It wasn't humid in the room, unlike its outside, but chillingly cold, actually. Trekking to the impeccable shell wood desks, he found a large blanket seated beneath, the monarchy's same preferred decor of crimson. 

While shedding his gloves and overcoat, a flicker on his clothes caught his eyes. The mask of Monomon's. A pin displayed just below the archive's representation, this had Quirrel's attention. Before departing with the garments, he took the pin off and held it in his hands, flipping it front and back to study the remarkable pale-ore. The one of a kind object. Not a pure mineral like the others, but still a beautiful treasure. Placing the pin on his now business-wear vest, he walked to the center of the room.

The chamber was rather large. To Quirrel's right, four massive bookshelves were filled, comprised of novels and history. He knew every single title enlisted to the publications, and surprisingly found some of his preferences. Running his fingers against each of the book's spines, he found the chosen taste of literature to be similar to his own. However... this, this itself was certainly odd. 

Quirrel paused this thought, mulling over his newfound prominence. Firstly, if many ambassadors and consuls were in the building for their royal hearing, it's strange seeing an exotic chamber spared. But not only this, why would an unoccupied room have such writing? Bland books were hard to come by, let alone the hand-written copies of exceptional manuscripts. His own collection hadn't held half of this amount, not even the library had these albums! Expanding his knowledge was what he dedicated himself to be doing. Once acquiring private education, his already substantial number of books grew, but it was a minor faction compared to this.

Walking wearily back from the shelves, he staggered from his stray insights, opening the curtains to reveal the marvelous window. Awe-struck with the scene.

The illusion of skyline overlooked the mourning city, emitting tears out of oblivion, befalling different and similar bugs alike. Quirrel sat himself down on the floor, placing the red blanket he'd reaped over his lap. Removing a book of notes, a glass container, and quill from his small satchel. Opening the journal's pages, he began to jot down ideas evaluated from verdicts and personal opinions from the day's conference. 

On finished, he flipped the page, looking downward at the blank sheet, then, down at the memorial underneath him. 

Precise lines and strokes were drawn across the parchment, drawing shapes that turned into form, adding value once satisfied with the model. Looking once more to the city square, he united it with the final hint of pretense. Labeling a diminutive caption below his work: ** _ Heart of Hallownest _ **. 

Quirrel laid the entry open on the ground, letting the ink seep into the page to dry, satisfied with the sketch. He strived to shake the stinging from his eyes, blankly looking into the courts below. He didn't look for or at anything, just staring down on the presently deserted streets, watching the water accumulate off the sides of walkways.

He let his chin fall into the crevice of his palm, merely leaning towards the stained glass. Allowing the ubiquitous air to embrace his shell, he became warmer and warmer, and his eyes grew more oppressive. Depletion clung to his soul, seizing- _ and then relinquished in him. Appearing that exhaustion had belatedly caught up to him. _

The scenery underneath his feet soon bestowed across its empire a dimmer and dimmer filter. And, just like that, reality faded into the depths of what felt like a fantasy.

A sensation was what awoke him. The feeling of something lightly grazing over his hood jolted Quirrel conscious. 

As he opened his eyes, there was nothing but complete darkness; needless to say, he felt uneased, but his confusion was quickly overtaken by the tingling sensation. A soft caress that sent soft waves of electricity across his scalp, furthered by another, and another, and maybe a few more... 

Elongating it, he leaned to its touch as it began to pause, only to resume rubbing circles over were his head and neck connected. The hand obviously mused him, but he enjoyed it, notwithstanding. With his muscles stiff from sitting in the lousy posture, Quirrel let out a long low hum of appreciation, tilting his head forward, lost anew in a groggy daze, and, as the hands continually caressed him, he savored all of where they moved.

"Seems you're enjoying this," a voice suddenly said. Barely above a hushed whisper.

"Hmm. Don't stop then_ ." _

The voice silenced, but the hands kept moving. Traveling to Quirrel's shoulders soon after, suspending there. 

Lowering themself beside him, it was hard to tell, though, he caught the sight of a violet-brown that swept by his shell.

"They have been looking for you, Quirrel," a feminine tone spoke. Her voice portraying the slightest bit of uneasiness, as it continued, "You weren't present for dinner, I can see perhaps why, would you like to join us now?"

Alright yeah, dinner sounded pretty appealing, yup. 

Hm.

Who is this us? 

Should he ask?

But did it matter? Dinner is dinner, right? 

Hm.

Wait, what?

A long cloak. A feminine voice. Join us for dinner?

Hmm.

Why in the hell were they rubbing the top of his head?

At that moment, his heart and thoughts dropped soundlessly. As if the pill bug hadn't woken up, and indeed, that's what he very much wished for.

The pieces quickly started clicking into place then. This wasn't a standard room, nor another vacant quest room. But this, this, this was a particular protector's room. 

_ This was the Beast's bedchambers _. 

T h i s w a s H o r n e t ' s r o o m.

Inhaling a deep breath, he omits nothing, an exhale that hadn't followed.

_ In her bedchambers. Using her blanket -- uninvited -- waking up moaning as she rubbed, the top, of my head. Haven't had a single conversation since I arrived... what, three days ago? Sleeping in the dark, tired, and hungry. _

Slowly, very, very slowly, he turned his head to the side. Looking into the pure darkness like a deer caught in headlights. Ah, yes, recollecting that she was a spider, of course.

Abruptly, he flung himself from the ground, having the amount of grace as a guzzler - stepping on his notebook in the process. Preparing himself to face death straight in the eyes.

"_ A-h, an absolute million ap-pologies your majesty-- _ this, this! It is extraordinarily rude! Terribly- so-very- honestly- sincerely- sorry! I promise you I ca--"

A hand then grabbed Quirrel firmly, clutching his shoulder. Capturing the Scholar's immediate attention.

"Look. I care less that you are sitting on the floor. Do you want to eat or not?" She questioned, and stated. Silencing his rambling before it carried on further.

"This didn't happen... I mean, it did! I'm sorry it's just... I'm just, it's not thinking straight. I-I mean I'm not thinking straight! I would." Quirrel squeaked, shutting his eyes to the darkness. Positively terrified of not only the darkness, finally letting out a deep breath. Hadn't stuttered for a long time, and this was just _ pathetic. _

Looking anywhere besides the general direction of her voice, indistinctly, he heard an almost non-existant laugh. She set a delicate pat on his back before pulling him by his arm, guiding him through the darkness, finding the doorway with ease. Not giving the pill bug a chance to second guess as he was escorted away from the room.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Hornet questioned flatly, allowing his arm freedom once out sight from the room. She fixed her eyes forward, not glancing towards the pillbug as she asked, who followed alongside her now.

"I swear to you, madam. I only wanted to see your window," he affirmed then. And... after, physically facepalmed. He'd decided too, to lock his gaze forward, recognizing now that it was a better idea. 

Tiredly, he stared ahead, digging his hands in his pockets, cringing.

After a few minutes passed in silence, and, after rounding a corner, Hornet eventually glanced his way. Studying him before speaking. "I'm surprised that you felt it was comfortable enough to sit on my floor and sleep out of all places." She said.

Silence this followed as well, as he was unsure of how to respond.

"Uhm... Hm?" Quirrel answered dumbly.

"I don't care where you do sit," She stated. "But, Quirrel."

can you get on with it hornet?

"Yes, Madam?" Mentally preparing himself for the worse.

"Don't touch my blanket."

Huh.

"Yes. Madam."

A few more passage's stretches, corners, and of course, stairs, they'd arrived. Quirrel straightened himself thoroughly, seeking to look somewhat presentable. Just as they approached the unfamiliar area, realizing only then, all belongings he carried on him were in her room...

...Looking towards the brighter side. At least he had a wrinkled vest, oh, and hey. A pin!

Standing in front of the two white and silver doors, Hornet paused, leaving Quirrel puzzled beside her. Pivoting to face him, there was a delay of silence before she spoke. "I need to ask you about something, Quirrel."

"Yes, madam?"

Hornet looked startlingly frustrated for a moment, though it vanished with her taking a long, drawn-out breath. "Accompany me to a banquet. Along with my two siblings, held for the business proceedings that were conceived between us and an allied sovereign? You're wanted since you are apart of the Achieves; this will be including select others as well, but they will not be attending as apart of my family's clique... Three weeks and two days to today. Scholar Quirrel. Please, take a brief period to consider-"

"I would be honored." He said, without hesitation in his expression or voice. "Sorry, Madam... I will have future arrangements made no problem. Thank you for offering the opportunity, Horn...-" 

She opened the doors quicker then he could correct himself.

He'd never seen this tremendous room before. A hidden segment of the facility, uniquely decorated with paintings, marble masts, and several engraved doors situated on a single blush, lavender wall. Within the beautiful chamber, a sizeable bureau occupied the center. And, at both heads of the table, lounging about, two Vessels were seated. The two beings; the Sealed Vessel and the Ghost of Hallownest.

Hollow nodded towards the pair, followed by Ghost, who enthusiastically stood. Greeting the presence of a dear friend with a warm welcome.

Quirrel discovered that this meal was significantly more delightful. Attending together with the siblings, discussions were carried about matters regarding current developments and social ventures that have ensued. Ghost signed between the individuals consistently and eagerly, Hollow explaining here and there, and then even Hornet, remarking on subjects. Who would have thought! Two giant vessels, one spider crossbreed, and a pill bug. It was like an amusing fuck-up, Brady bunch. No matter what they were though, it didn't make the relationship any less unique, Quirrel hadn't heeded the Knight in a placid while, and had rarely seen Hornet sincerely enjoy other's closeness. 

The evening's collation was an exceptionally long event. Reaching from the late hours of the night and into early hours of the morning, spent eating and chatting, and not to be forgotten, this was well-included drinking. _ Notably generous pours _ of _ many excellent meads. _Maybe an abundant amount, but making up for the lost time could be a meticulous business.

As dinner finally came to a finish, it appeared that the food, wine, and even plates on the table vanished. So they excused themselves. Not knowing how long before they finally stood, the three attempted to walk back to their own respected quarters. Ah, yes. Only three. Hollow, still asleep on the floor of the dining room, was left behind as they gave up on their attempts to wake the vessel. 

The group, still chuckling about at one another's a conversation, had halted at the intersection of private galleries. Needing to part their separate ways. 

Before diverging apart, the king had kneeled suddenly. Underneath the feet of Hornet, who then kneeled beside them, bring their heads together. Hornet, softly caressing the vessel's beautifully curved horns as they purred, a section of the void that rumbled from within them.

The sight was... something. Something Quirrel had witnessed many times throughout their childhood.

It was apparent they equally enjoyed the affection, and when it was time they'd withdrawn, were left similarly disappointed. But who could blame the two, though? Gods, hah, he would be so much more than just _ disappointed. _

He hadn't realized he was staring until Hornet stared at him back.

"Quirrel, "Hornet spoke. 

"Yes Hornet?"

He hadn't anticipated for her to fall on top of him.

_ "Will you escort me to my room?" _she muttered, coiling her arms around his shoulders, overlooking his size.

Ghost had wavered away at that point, but looked back at the timid bug, casting a look of adoring jealously, and knowingness.

"Your wish is my command, Hornet." 

Accommodating the crossbreed, her feet loosely dragged as she leaned onto his back. Even though it soon became tiring, solely drawing her down the halls, Quirrel swiftly hoisted her onto his back, both giggling as he stumbled to get his footing. She was by no means heavy, but try carrying a second body while barely managing to walk straight on your own. Meanwhile, crossing by guardians that patrolled the palace, sentries shot judgemental looks at the intoxicated two, some smiling, even snickering, but no one dared to comment. 

Quirrel was acutely attentive when we walked straight by his room. Hornet's chin resting on his head as she was draped over his back, but he could care much less. Craving the familiarity and recognition of the Queen of Beasts, intoxication, emphasizing his emotions.

Opening the two combinations of doors, he met a new sight. The room was now illuminated by orange-yellow hues that were provided by the open crimson curtains, shown black by nightfall, but came from streetlamps. It was a stunning sight to the icy room, though Quirrel had to admit, was offputting for pretty blatant reasons.

Hornet slid down to her feet, leisurely stepping in front of him. Her arms coming around his again neck, and he noticed his own settling against her waist. Both sinking into the presence of the other.

Quirrel freed a hand from the embrace, gliding them over to the bedside. Throwing the bedding to the bottom, as he sat her atop of the softer than velvet sheets.

Hornet could almost feel the delight radiating off of him as she gestured to come on the bed. Gently placing himself on top of her, as she laid back against pillows. 

"What a charmer you are." She said, rubbing her hand over his now orange cheek. Humming in satisfaction as he began relaxing to the touch.

"Taught to be a gentleman. Pleasing the lovely royalties, such as yourself," he snickered.

As he admired the rare moment, he let his hands wander over her silk dress, until slowly, his self-confidence increased, along with his impatience. Creeping his fingers lower and lower, he lifted his weight from her, reaching down to the edge of her cherry-red dress, eyes never leaving her gaze for approval. While pulling her cloaking up, she arched her back, allowing him to gingerly lift it above her arms and horns. 

Her body... It was as if she was sculpted by the gods themselves. He praised her tight muscles and dulled scars that were tracked along her body. Tracing his thin fingers down her bared waist and up to her torso. Hornet, shivering to the new type of contact as Quirrel hungrily watched her with keenness.

"_ So gorgeous. Though, I will say I'm not surprised. Presuming the highness of spiders to be made of pure silk was a mere guess. _"

Hornet let out an amused huff before Quirrel raised one hand, brushing the side of her face. "The colors of the city._ It's like they were meant to display your beauty, Hornet. _ Such an amazing privilege to see your gorgeous smile, _ to have part of your affection... _" Taking her hand, he placed a kiss backside of it, bringing it then to his chest. 

"To have a place here."

Hornet would giggle at the sentimental statement, but wouldn't consider admitting this. Though, she had cherished the feeling Quirrel always left in the pit of her stomach. His eyes a sea of never-ending affection, making her heart thud and knees weak. She fancied the kind, compassionate, and upbeat character that belonged to only a scrawny pillbug that had been through the unthinkable in this heartless world. For Quirrel, and his alone's closeness, Hornet dare say she desired.

Reaching for his grip, their fingers entangling together, holding their hands between their chests as their bodies became even closer.

She slightingly pushed herself up from under Quirrel, who then recoiled, giving her room to slightly sit up. Their hands still connected as she placed her opposite on his chest. 

Quirrel looked at Hornet's face, just below his eye-level. Completely lit up by the warm colors of the city, his vocabulary wasn't nearly broad enough couldn't describe how extraordinary she looked underneath him. 

"Can I tell you something?" She asked.

"Of course, anything," Quirrel said. Curiosity lingering in his voice.

She came close, touching their cheeks together, murmuring into his ear.

"It's_ a secret. _" Her voice purred, barely above a whisper.

"_ I do lust for mystery, _ though _ if I don't have to know, its quite alright, Hornet _," Quirrel mimicked, sincerely looking at her. Smiling, but with something of an earnest look. Oh, how she wanted to keep him from the unspeakable, to protect him, to be with him.

"You always want_ the answers. _ Listen."

...

"Do you hear that?"

"No?"

"It's you."

"Heh, what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a good listener."

They both giggled, holding each other like it was the end of the world.

"It means you're here with me."

...

"Hornet?"

"Yes?"

"_ I love you. _"

Silence's presence is what remained between them. Hornet having to take a moment to decipher the bluntness.

She'd never been fond of the phrase. As pain would always conquer love. 

_ But do I love him? _

Is that even a question?

She tilted her the side, rubbing her cheek against his own other time.

"The feeling's mutual."

Quirrel began choking back a snort. Heaving with laughter.

"What?" She questioned, reeling backward to look at him.

"That was about the most satisfying response," he sarcastically commented.

She stared strenuously at him until finally laying back, dropping to the pillows. "What do you want from me?" she asked, letting out a huff. 

"You've gotta say it back!" He demanded.

She stared at the ceiling.

Quirrel got closer to her face, bringing a hand to continually tap the side of her cheek.

"Come on, ~."

She groaned.

"I like you Quirrel,"

The tapping began nudging.

"I love you, Quirrel." She said sincerely. 

"Thank you." Quirrel purred. 

As the other drifted into sleep beside her, Hornet repeated the sentence in her head. Throwing an arm protectively over his torse as tiredness overtook herself as well.

* * *

She was the first to wake, with the weight of Quirrel practically on top of her. Instead of sleeping in the round ball as he usually did, he curled only his back, wrapping his legs intertwined hers. The regular air in the room was crisp as she gradually and painstakingly got out from under him, walking to change to more appropriate attire.

She had no intention to leave the pillbug, sleeping, or awake.

Crawling back into the bed, he welcomed her return, pressing back to her as if she never left. 

"Hornet," Quirrel whispered. Putting his forehead into his pillow. "It's cold," he muttered.

She rubbed the backside of his head. But instead of more of her touch after it had just begun, he felt a shift in the mattress's weight. Interested in why she would have left but he patiently waited, watching as she walked across the room, turning into the counter's area.

When she came back, she sat criss-cross on the bed, holding the red blanket in her arms.

Bringing it above her shoulders, it draped over her back. Looked down to Quirrel, Hornet spread her arms wide. Inviting the pill bug in.


End file.
